


Look at Me

by BrandiChampane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, fallen!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:16:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandiChampane/pseuds/BrandiChampane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's first time with Cas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at Me

Dean’s first time with Cas is quick and rough. He rests on his knees, hands braced on the mattress. Cas is behind him, gripping his hips rough enough he is sure there will be bruises in the morning. Sweat trickles down his spine sending a shiver that is coursing through him. Cas’ body is warm against him and he forgets about Sammy’s declining health and the impending monsters he will have to face in the future. Right now this is Dean and Cas and the beige walls of his bedroom.   
Dean’s eyes fall shut and he regrets it instantly because the images flood through his brain. Images of men twice his age sending him furtive glances between the bar crowd. He can hear the way they whisper good boy in his ear, the smell of whisky on their breath. Dean can feel their hands bending him over in an alley, behind a dumpster. Some of the men are rough, hands pulling him into the positions they desire, hands that meant to leave bruises. He will suck anyone’s cock at price if it means feeding Sammy. Their breath smells, they are too rough, but Sam is home hungry and Dad’s out on another hunt for God knows how long. So he will put out night after night.   
His stomach lurches and Cas must have seen his tear stained face because he is pulling out and pulling Dean into his lap. He whispers a concession of sorry and we should stop, unsure of what has gone wrong. Dean is not sure when his arms wrapped around Cas’ waist but his nails are blunt and digging into his skin. He opens his eyes to Cas’ worry and panic stricken eyes and the sickness rolls through him again. Yeah, that is bile, vomit, I need to vomit. He looks around the room in panic for a way out of Cas’ octopus limbs. Cas cannot read minds anymore but he picks up on the clues and unwraps himself from Dean with another sorry and Dean is tired of hearing sorry.   
He makes it to the bathroom down the hall and unloads a week’s worth of food into the porcelain bowl. His insides are twisting into knots so he decides to stay on his knees. He rests his head on his outstretched arm and focuses on breathing. Everything is fine now, he is home, Sammy is here, Sammy is fed. This is Cas, gentle protective Cas who cares and is staying, finally staying. The rough men who call themselves Daddy are gone now. His stomach lurches again but nothing comes up.   
When he thinks it is safe he props himself up with the edge of the sink and tries to remove the taste of bile from his lips. His eyes are red and swollen so he runs cold water over his face and hopes is helps. There are thoughts trying to worm their way into his head again leaving him white knuckled against the counter. He does not need this right now, not with Cas waiting for him in the bedroom. He shuts the water off and makes his way back to his room.   
Cas is searching for his clothes when Dean returns to his room but Dean decides he wants to go through with this, for Cas he tells himself. He wants to give himself to Cas, because whether he can get the words out or not, he loves Cas. He stops Cas’ hands in their search and pulls him into his lap as he sits back down on his bed. Cas still has that worried look on his face and Dean will tell him in the morning but for now he needs this, needs Cas.   
He presses a kiss to Cas and gives a half-hearted smile, some reassurance that things are okay. Cas starts to get with the program again and kisses him slow, tenderly. He tries to deepen it, fighting to get his tongue is Cas’ mouth but Cas pulls his head away and cups Dean’s face with his hands. He is searching Dean’s eyes for something he is not finding and lets out a huff.  
“Are…are you going to tell me what happened?” His eyebrows knit together so Dean kisses each one. He tries to kiss Cas’ lips again but he is still holding his face and keeps it steady.  
“Dean?”  
Somewhere on the sheets Dean has found the lube and slicks a finger before pressing it into Cas. Cas loses his train of thought and moans into Dean’s shoulder. A win for now, if Dean can keep him distracted for the rest of the night maybe he will not have to talk about this. When Cas looks like he is going to speak again Dean slicks another finger and presses it in with the first. Cas is panting against his skin sending signals to his dick to jump back to action. He works his fingers feverishly, sucking marks into Cas’ pale flesh, mine he thinks.   
Before he can press in a third finger Cas has decided he wants more on his own, slicking Dean’s cock before gently pressing it against his hole. Dean enters with a grunt and his eyes fall shut again. Cas’ breath mixes with the scent of whiskey and Dean thinks he is going to lose it again. His body is still against Cas who is still working himself against Dean. Registering the sudden halt to his movements as bad, Cas presses his forehead against Deans and whispers for Dean to open his eyes. Cas has the softest eyes, even with the bags from not sleeping.   
“Focus on me.” A command, so Dean nods against Cas’ head.   
Cas presses himself down, fully sheathed on Dean’s cock and starts to work his hips in a slow pattern. Dean’s vision blurs because this is the first time anyone has ever been so gentle, so loving. Ever since he was sixteen, it has been either a back alley handshake or a one - night stand with some girl in a bar. Everything has always been quick, two bodies searching for a climax to send them over the edge before sneaking out in the shade of the moon. Now there is Cas and he moves so slow, savoring ever feel of Dean against him, kissing each freckle, grounding Dean against his dark past, even though he is unsure what it is he is warding off.   
Cas wipes a tear from Dean’s cheek but keeps moving, making sure Dean is focused on him. Without breaking eye contact, Cas moves Dean’s hands to his hips and squeezes until Dean is sure there will be handprints. He jerks his hips rougher against Dean, picking up pace. A moan escapes their lips simultaneously and Cas’ lips twitch a smile before his is lost in the touch again. He moves hungrily against Dean now, hips snapping, making audible grunts, breath brushing against Dean’s skin.   
Even through the quick pace, Cas manages to keep tears from falling off Dean’s cheeks. Dean would feel embarrassed, should feel embarrassed, but this is Cas he reminds himself; the one who holds him through nightmares and makes him coffee in the morning. Now he is coaxing Dean out of the nightmare of his past and he is sure his chest will burst with flames from the affections he feels for this man straddling his hips in the dirtiest, most beautiful way possible.   
When Dean reaches his climax, he shudders and whimpers against Cas, who works slowly against him now. He keeps pressing into Cas and shifts his gaze down to find Cas trying to reach his own, pushes his hands aside and grips him, working him until he is coming against Dean. Cas nearly screams and Dean has to remember that this is Cas’ first time which only makes him feel guilty. Guilty because Cas’ first time including watching Dean cry like a baby. Cas’ body goes limp against Dean, he presses his face into the his shoulder and whispers in his ear.  
“I love you Dean,” he repeats it like a prayer. Dean does not know what to do so he grips Cas into an embrace and whispers it back and he is sure he means. Sure that this man, angel, is the best thing to have come in his life and the tears are streams from his eyes so he just holds on. Holds onto to Cas like a life raft because he is pretty sure Cas is and he loves him and needs him and please never leave.


End file.
